None of the Others Had Noticed a Thing
by jazzybizzle
Summary: What if the events in HBP went a little...differently? ::HHr
1. On The Train

**I'm in the mood for some Harmony, so I thought, why not just do the thing? :D**

**The time span of this fic will be throughout HBP, based off both the movie and the book, along with my personal interpretation. I've got most of the plot down, but until I get to where I need to be the chapters will just come to me out of the top of my head.**

**Read, review, whatever ;3**

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"Harry?" Hermione's voice brought him out of his thoughts, sounding like a faint echo, getting louder as he finally reached the light at the end of the tunnel. "Harry, are you alright?"

His friend came into view, her chocolate, concerned orbs settled on his blank green ones. She sat across from him, one leg neatly crossed over the other, and _The Daily Prophet_ lay open in her lap.

Harry blinked a few times, spotting a missing party in the compartment. How long had he been out of it? "Where's Ron?"

"He went off to find the trolley a few moments ago," said Hermione.

Harry hummed knowingly, stretching his stiff back, feeling the bones and muscles pop and ripple. He had been in and out of it since they got on the train. Now he felt a little guilty for unintentionally ignoring Hermione. He couldn't help it. It wasn't the first time he had a lot on his mind.

"Don't worry about me, Harry," she said reassuringly, as if reading his very thoughts. "I was just curious, is all. You've been quiet for a while. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Harry gave her a smile that didn't require much force, sitting up a little straighter. "Thanks, but I'm fine."

She smiled back. "Where have I heard _that_ before?"

He chuckled. Hermione was always over-observant. That was probably why she could read anyone like an open book, him the most out of everyone. But then again, although he wasn't as good as her, he had a pretty good read on her as well. He knew when she wanted to know something, and when she already knew it-right now it was a little bit of both.

"I know you think that no one believes you about your theories of Malfoy being a Death Eater-" she began.

"You don't," said Harry.

"I never said that..."

"Yes, because it wasn't implied," his tone dripped with sarcasm. "You said so yourself that you didn't know what you saw. But I did. I know it happened. I know they Marked him."

"And I believe you," she enunciated, leaning forward. "But you have enough on your plate already. Whatever happened to Malfoy...I think you should stay out of it."

Harry stayed quiet. She got up in a hunch, crossing the short space between them within a few steps, and turned so she could sit down next to him. His hands stayed clasped in his lap, regarding her with a judging look, silently demanding the burning question. _Why?_

"I know you mean well, Harry. Maybe a part of you wants to help him-don't give me that," she added when his eyes darkened. "You just never know what's going to happen. Things change..."

Harry began to question the sudden crestfallen look on her face when she put her hand over his own, fingers sliding in the space between his palms. She gave him a reassuring squeeze.

"Let's try to stay positive, yeah?" said Hermione.

Harry squeezed back naturally, returning the pressure. Hermione meant well, but sometimes she didn't understand. The school's safety was already in jeopardy, but when you add a teenaged Death Eater to Harry's pool of problems...

"Are you looking forward to the new Year?"

Harry shrugged. "I suppose. Do you reckon Professor Slughorn will last the Year?"

"The Year?"

"Hermione, have you noticed that every new professor we get, they end up..."

She gasped. "Harry!"

"You're right. Lupin doesn't count."

"That's for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Isn't Slughorn taking the Potions post?"

"If Slughorn is teaching Potions, then that just has Shape left." Harry suddenly grinned darkly.

Hermione shot him a look. "That's not funny."

"Then why are you smiling?"

Her lips quivered, and she ended up joining him in harmonized laughter. "Because sometimes you are so utterly absurd!"

Harry laughed some more. It felt good to smile. "Do you honestly expect any less?"

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him, which he returned in retaliation, and rested her head on his shoulder. She looked at their hands, lifting their entwined limbs to study the slight skin contrast, his paler than hers.

"I don't think it takes this long to get something from the trolley," she spoke after a while.

"It's Ron we're talking about," said Harry simply. He was comfortable like this. One of the many great things about Hermione? She could soothe with a touch. And over the years, they found themselves completely at ease when they were together. Open displays of affection wasn't taken as a big deal for them-even though others think it's another story entirely. "He probably got distracted on the way. Lavender Brown fancies him. Have you noticed?"

"It's hard to ignore," Hermione grumbled. He eyed her questionably. She sat up to look him square in the eye, and her actions caused her fingers to slip away too. Harry was starting to miss the warmth. "Lavender Brown and I never really saw...eye to eye. The mere thought of her and Ron is just mind-boggling."

"And disturbing," Harry coughed, and she giggled.

"This is wrong. I shouldn't judge. Ron may be with whomever he likes."

Harry studied her closely. "Hermione? Are you...jealous?"

"Sorry?"

"Jealous. Are you jealous of Lavender because of Ron?"

"Oh, no." Hermione shook her head. "I'm just concerned, is all. Aren't we all a little protective over each other when it comes to relationships? I mean, you lot flipped your trousers about me and Viktor."

"I don't remember throwing fits."

She smiled sweetly at him. "You were more subtle." And he chuckled.

"No guy will ever be good enough for you, Hermione," said Harry, and her smile widened.

"What about you and Cho?" asked Hermione. "You haven't mentioned her all holiday, so I assumed that you two..."

"Sort of fell apart, yeah," said Harry.

"I'm sorry."

"Why? You didn't do anything."

"Cho had misinterpretations about you and me last Year."

"She wouldn't be the first."

Hermione looked sheepish, brushing a curly strand of hair behind her ear. "Why do you think," she didn't meet his gaze, "that is?" A light blush stained her cheeks.

Harry wet his lips, and the room suddenly got a little hotter. He wanted to avoid this, but there was no way out. He had to be honest with her. They never really talked about this, out loud and to each other.

"Dunno," said Harry. "I, er, think that they...assume that, er, since we're close..."

"And we've been through a lot," said Hermione off-handedly. "And I suppose we get along fairly well."

"Yeah."

Their eyes met.

"And it was you who saved me from the troll that night," said Hermione.

Harry slightly shook his head. "Me and Ron did, remember?"

"No," she murmured. "Both you and Ron were there...but it was _your_ idea to go make sure I was safe."

"It was nothing really."

"To you it was. To me it wasn't. And I don't think you realize how much that night has impacted my life, even now. I wouldn't be the same without you. If it weren't for you, Harry, I would have been in a compartment, alone with my face in a book right now. Or worse, I probably wouldn't even have made it past that night...So thank you."

Harry looked at her from underneath his eyelashes. "You're giving me all the credit. You should be thanking Neville. He was the one who told me where you were."

"But you noticed that I was gone. You asked, did you not?"

_I did, _Harry realized.

The late afternoon sun shone throw the window, brightening the brown in her eyes and the natural highlights in her hair. _Unf_. Guilty thoughts plagued him, but he also welcomed them all the same. He couldn't help but think about her from time to time. Hermione was pretty, and that was the understatement of the century. She really blossomed from the bushy haired bossy girl he met on this very train, seeming like a lifetime ago.

"It's getting late," said Hermione, noticing the period of time as well. "We should change into our robes."

.

Harry walked out of Slughorn's compartment, rubbing the back of his stiff neck. Apparently, he had been invited to the _Slug Club_, whatever that was, for a quick meeting before their arrival. There were many people in that small space that he didn't know, but at least he saw a few familiar faces such as Ginny and Neville, Harry feeling bad for the female Weasley who got stuffed behind Slughorn's stomach, and Luna Lovegood on the way there. Now he was searching for a familiar curly, caramel mane. He craned his neck, looking over the bodies that were now piling out in the hallway.

"Looking for me?" said a voice in his ear, feeling a female presence behind him.

Harry turned, looking down at the smiling bookworm. Huh. Had she gotten shorter?

"Sorry," continued Hermione, pointing at the badge on her chest. "Prefect duty. How was the _Slug Club?_"

"Good. If you like stuffy places," said Harry.

Hermione made a face. "That bad, huh?"

"The tension between Ginny and Zabini was so thick you could slice it with a knife."

"Well," she reached forward, straightening his robes for him, "I'm glad you managed to escape unscathed."

"Malfoy's a Prefect, right?"

Hermione glared at him. "_Yes_. And _no_, you are _not_ going back there. We are going _this_ way." She brushed passed him, pulling the raven-haired teen by the sleeve of his robes.

Harry sighed in defeat, following her outside.

"Oi, you lot!" The youngest male of the Weasleys waved from where he stood, catching their attention. Harry and Hermione made their way over.

"Where have you been?" demanded Hermione.

"Around." Ron gestured to and fro lazily.

"You are a Prefect now, Ronald. This is no time to be fooling around!"

"Well excuse me for trying not to get groped!"

"Oh, come off it!"

"You come off it!"

"You!"

"You!"

"You!"

"Enough, both of you!" snapped Harry, and his two friends regarded him awkwardly. "Ron, try to be more of an example since you're now a higher rank at Hogwarts," he turned to the shortest of the three, "Hermione, Ron doesn't have to tell you where he's been because he might have a good reason for it. Now can we go, please?"

"...Yes," the two said.

_"Thank_ you."


	2. Stare

**Thank you all for the genuine feedback for the first chapter. It means a lot! :}**

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"Will you _stop_ looking at him?" Hermione whispered sternly. Professor Dumbledore was giving his usual introductory speech and all Harry had been doing was staring at Malfoy.

"Honestly, Harry, either go over and snog him or listen to Dumbledore," agreed Ginny, siding with her female companion.

Cringing at the visual, Harry reluctantly turned back around. He wanted to come up with a retort. To say that everything that came out of Dumbledore's mouth was just a rerun because he was already informed of this. He knew about Slughorn, his suspicions were confirmed when Snape had been announced as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher-much to the pleasure of the Slytherins-and if he's heard it once, he's heard it a thousand times. The First Years were given a specific set of rules and warnings after the Sorting, the upper classmen getting reminders, and then it was time to eat.

Ron stuffed his plate with mountains of food, while Hermione watched him with pure disdain. Harry picked more reasonably, but then again he was a Quidditch player and he had to eat. Come to think of it, if he wasn't active, Harry would most likely be as thin as he was five years ago, Pre-Hogwarts. The Quidditch diet helped with his weight, beforehand he didn't eat as much as the average growing boy, and he was able to gain a healthy amount of muscle.

"Ginny?"

Harry looked up as Neville got the latter's attention.

"The next time the Slug Club has a meeting...I-I'll sit by Slughorn if you want," he offered, and Harry smiled in his pumpkin juice. He had really warmed up to Neville and considered him a true, loyal friend. If fate had been altered, Neville could have bore the burden of the scar on Harry's forehead.

Neville may have it, if not worse, than Harry. Starting off at Hogwarts, he had no friends and was constantly made fun of because of his weight and clumsiness. Throughout the years, however, there were some improvements; he grew taller, which made the fat roll off. He gained a little more confidence over time. When he was teased his roommates, including Harry and Ron, were quick to send looks; but he also stood up for himself.

Now, with his hair down and curly like he had it in their Fourth Year, Neville regarded Ginny with a sheepish look. Both he and Harry knew she was close to snapping, if possibly maiming, earlier.

"Thanks, Neville, but I'm fine," said Ginny. "But if you can keep me away from Zabini as far as possible, I'm all yours."

Neville blushed, smiled, and nodded at his redheaded friend. When he smiled, he never did it all the way because he was self-conscious of his teeth. He was more comfortable around Harry and the rest of his roommates. Girls naturally made him nervous, even if only three genuinely talk to him.

"Harry," said Hermione, and his gaze flickered to her, "Ron and I have Prefect duty after this so..."

"Don't worry about it," said Harry. "You two do your job. I'll wait up."

"Must you be tired?"

"Not really." Hermione just stared at him. "Really. There's no rush. You can even come by our dormitory if you'd like."

Ron did a spit take. "Come by our _what?!"_

"Well apparently, I'm not wanted around here," Hermione regarded him curtly before turning her attention back on Harry. "Harry, you know the rules."

"The rules say that boys can't go into your dormitories-and we physically cannot go in. It doesn't say anything about the other way around. You can come in."

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, quiet for a bit. Then, she said finally, "Alright. Only for a moment."

Harry grinned in triumph.

.

"Can you believe this year's turn-out?" sneered Pansy Parkinson.

"You mean the First Years or the fat arse we're supposed to call our Potions teacher?" commented Blaise from his seat by the fire.

It was a slow night, and the prime Slytherins lounged about themselves. Draco Malfoy sat in silence, staring unblinking into the golden flames that licked the air. His friends were starting to get concerned. They weren't used to this quiet Draco. His behavior unnerved them.

"What do you think, Draco?" Pansy drawled lazily. Did he respond? Of course not. "Draco?"

He finally answered after the umpteenth time. _"What?"_

"What's wrong with you?" demanded Blaise.

Draco sighed. He knew what was wrong. And Pansy knew too. They were his best friends. Crabbe and Goyle were the dunderheads who followed him around for show; to scare off those who dared. Those who were new.

Pansy Parkinson had been Draco's first girlfriend at Hogwarts, and they were on and off for years; they were the obvious couple, the Slytherin Prince and the Slytherin Princess. They were both naive and cruel in their youth. Feelings matured, and they grew apart on a romantic level. Fifth Year was awkward, but they got passed that patch in their relationship and decided to stay friends because they worked better that way, and despite what everyone believed, Pansy could be sweet if she wanted to. She just had a shell that you had to get through yourself. And Draco valued her as a true friend.

The story behind Blaise Zabini was limited, depending on who you ask. He was a quiet Slytherin, Italian, and had a beautiful shade of dark mocha skin. His most contributing factor would be the cut in his left eye, showing from the right side if you looked at him; just a small space between that eyebrow where hair never grew. (Most likely, it was from a duel or fight of some kind). Like Pansy, even if he was naturally a jerk, he was still a loyal friend. The two, unlike Crabbe and Goyle, Draco thought were the only ones he could talk on a deep level with. Crabbe and Goyle would just stare stupidly.

The youngest Malfoy had a load on his plate this Year, and it was only a matter of time until his deadline approached. Every decision he made until then counted against him.

His hand ghosted over his forearm. The Mark wasn't there yet. _Yet_. But the empty presence of it still burned through his skin. It will be there regardless, whether he wanted it to or not. Did he even want to? Was darkness really in his heart? Was he born with it? Nurtured by prejudice and lies that he grown into believing?

Draco was a troubled soul, but he was no fool.

"Probably has to do with Potter," teased Pansy. "They were making lovey eyes at each other the entire dinner."

"Are you seriously doing this while I'm still in the room?" Draco interjected.

"HE SPEAKS!" both Pansy and Blaise exclaim.

"Thought we lost you there, mate," said Blaise.

Draco rolled his eyes. "For once I don't talk, and it's all of a sudden a bloody crime. How genuine of you."

"Well, when you're quiet, you're doing either two things," Pansy held up two manicured fingers, ticking them off as she went on, "plotting, or moping. What's going on in that blonde head of yours?" She walked around the arm of the plush green couch, plopping down next to him.

"More so the latter. Though the former might be slightly overdue." Draco's grin turned sinister.

Blaise snorted.

"Amused, Blaise?" Draco addressed him coolly. "Pansy told me about your little spat with the Weaslette. Have a thing for blood traitors now? And to think you could sink no lower..."

"And we all know how hard you are to please!" Pansy added.

"I liked you better when you didn't talk," Blaise grumbled, then said aloud, "Besides, I have no interest in the Weasley peasant. I would never touch a blood traitor, much less a mudblood. What is she to me?"

"This is why I don't have girlfriends," Pansy groaned. "You talk about girls like they're trash. And it drives them away. So thanks."

"You're welcome," said Draco. "Beside the point here, we're talking about the Weaslette. She's no girl, so she doesn't count."

"Neither is that mudblood, Granger," said Blaise, lifting his head. "Potter's girl."

_"Potter?"_ Draco spat.

"Like you two could mingle with Potter's posse."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Boys, boys, boys," Pansy shook her head, sitting up straighter. "You have a lot to learn. No wonder girls won't go out with you." She received dark looks for that one but continued anyway. "Everybody knows who we are-well, duh, I mean look at us. We're the Slytherins. You know, the baddy-baddies, the House that spawns evil-doers and hell-goers. Let's prove these bitches _wrong!"_

Draco and Blaise exchanged glances.

"I'm listening," said Draco.

.

"Where are you lot going?" asked Harry as he pulled a blue t-shirt over his head.

His roommates paused in the door frame, looking suspicious enough as it is, and slowly turned around. Ron was the head of the group; they, like Harry, were clad in their pajamas.

Harry had a good feeling why they decided to leave all of a sudden. Ron had barely been there for five minutes, because of Prefect duty, and now he was leaving with them. What were they going on about?

"Uuh...out?" said Ron lamely.

"Out where?" said Harry.

"To...er..."

Harry arched an eyebrow.

"Bye, Harry!" The teens exclaimed, running out of their room in a stumbling mess.

Harry just shook his head. He loved his roommates like brothers, but they fail at being subtle. They were just leaving before-

_Knock knock knock_

"Harry?"

-_before_ Hermione arrived.

Harry ran his fingers a couple times through his hair subconsciously to make it look more tousled than usual, walking around the laundry basket to reach the door. He took a slight breath, a simple in and out movement of his chest, and opened the door.

His best friend stood there with a confused smile on her face, and he knew that she must have ran into them on her way up.

He took notice of her pajamas. One of the many things he loved about Hermione that set her apart from the other girls was that she dressed comfortably. Not trying to impress people, pretending to be someone that she's not. She wore a Gryffindor tee shirt and white pajama pants with polka dots on them; and her hair, mildly wet, was tied back into a French braid.

"Hi there," said Harry for starters.

"Hi," said Hermione. "Um...do you know why...?" She started to point over her shoulder with her thumb, but Harry was already taking said hand and pulling her inside.

"Don't ask, just come in."

Hermione giggled, and cast a look around the Boys' Dormitory. It was different than the Girls' Dormitory, her sense of smell first picking up the lack of perfume and hair products. Not that there was anything wrong with her roommates, but she was more acquainted with the current environment she was in.

Harry watched her face. The pleasant look on her face amused him. "Not what you expected?"

Hermione looked over at him, amusement dancing in her eyes as well. "No. But in a good way."

He went to go sit on his bed, and she followed him as if it was a normal thing for them. Harry climbed in, leaving room for her to slide in next to him and get situated.

"So how was your first patrol?" said Harry, folding his hands together on his lap.

Hermione grimaced. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

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**Next chapter, we find out what happened on Hermione's first night patrol. You wouldn't wanna miss it!**


	3. Draco Learns a Lesson

**I honestly had no idea this story would get so much positive feedback! Thank you all so SO much for keeping this fresh story alive. :}**

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_"I can't believe I'm doing this with...with _him_!" Hermione grumbled to herself out loud, walking as far away to the left as the empty corridor will allow from her permanent partner for the Year._

_"Well you wouldn't crack my top ten, Granger," Draco sneered, appearing as unhappy as she felt._

_Hermione walked stiffly, reminding herself that it was only a matter of a few mere hours she had to share with Malfoy, for the good of the school, and then she could go back to Gryffindor Tower, where Harry was waiting for her. The thought of her raven haired friend gave her a boost of confidence. If he could face Voldemort, there was no sense of not saying his name now, then surely the bookworm could walk around with the school bully._

_Did Hermione truly think that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater? Logically, it would make sense, since his entire bloodline was in the family business. But personally, she didn't like to dwell on it too much. And as a result, she often relied on her mind to get through situations and thought processes._

_Sometimes she wondered why she wasn't in Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor. She asked herself that in the beginning, sometimes even now. But it was friendship, bravery, and loyalty that had her stick by Harry all these years. That's what made her who she was._

_"We'll cover more ground if we-" Hermione started, using her professional, know-it-all voice._

_"Split up? You're just scared of being alone with me," snarked Draco with a smug grin on his face._

_And Hermione wanted to wipe it clean off._

_She turned on him with fire in her eyes as she lifted up her right fist; at the sight of the limb, Draco's smile automatically faltered, much to her genuine pleasure. "I _will_ use this," she threatened him._

_Draco nodded once, a sheepish hold on his mouth as he inclined his back away from her. Seeing that he wasn't going to be smart with her, she lowered her hand and stepped back._

_As she started off again down the corridor, she heard, "You've got an impressive right hook there."_

_The bookworm whirled around, caramel curls whipping around in her face. _"What?"

_"Granger, I complimented you once. I'm not doing it again."_

_That was...odd._

_"How...thoughtful of you," she said finally._

_"This is the part where you _thank_ me."_

_"I would if your compliment was sincere!"_

_Draco snorted._

_"What's the catch?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion._

_"No catch."_

_"You're lying."_

_"Y-"_

_"People like you sugar up to people when they want something, so what is it?"_

_"Like me? And a teenage girl like yourself doesn't?" _

_He was avoiding the question._

_"Oh, you're just now noticing that I'm a girl?"_

_"Granger, please. Every bloke around here noticed Third Year. Including that saint _Potter_ and the Weasle." He spat Harry's name like he usually does, but regardless it brought an angry blush to Hermione's cheeks. She opened her mouth, then closed it again repeatedly, speechless, like a fish out of water. "Surprised, Miss Know-It-All?" Draco mocked._

_Hermione's lips were now white from the pressure she was exerting._

_"Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to continue our shift-_partner_. I have better things to attend to than stand here wasting time."_

_Hermione was quick to open her mouth again for a retort, but realized he was right. He walked ahead of her, and she squinted her eyes and shook her head, making small grabby motions at his back in a choking manner._

_._

Harry's lips quivered.

"You want to laugh," Hermione deadpanned, and quiet laughter escaped him. She slapped his arm and exclaimed, "You're laughing at me!"

"I'm not laughing at _you_-!"

"Come off it, yes you are!"

"No I'm not!"

"You are!"

"...Well, yeah."

Hermione's mouth dropped in disbelief, but she couldn't stop smiling. Still guffawing, Harry pulled her in for a side hug, squeezing her shoulder. And, knowing she couldn't stay mad, or even remotely annoyed with him, she sighed and relaxed, curling into his side.

"So to sum it all up, Malfoy is your partner and he complimented you?"

"It wasn't sincere," Hermione added.

"It wasn't sincere," echoed Harry. "Okay. He's being nice to you, or attempting to and failing miserably."

"Right."

"And you don't know how you feel about it, but it makes you feel uncomfortable because-because it's-"

"_Weird_," the two said in harmony.

"Exactly," said Hermione. "What do you think I should do, Harry? I mean..." She licked her lips, sitting up straight so she could look directly into his green orbs. "I know it's a trick but..."

"But you also want to be a little easy on him, even if he is a two-faced arse."

"...I didn't say that."

"But you were thinking it," said Harry, grinning at her. "Weren't you?"

Hermione grasped his shoulders and shook him. "Ha-_rry_!"

"I'm joking, I'm joking," said Harry. "Just...think of it as an experiment."

"An experiment?"

"Yeah. A school assignment..." continued Harry artfully. "...that Professor Potter has assigned to you, Miss Granger," he gripped her arms, "your mission, should you choose to accept it-"

Hermione couldn't stop smiling and giggling, not being able to do one without the other. Even if Harry was being serious, he made it fun just to see her smile.

"-think of it as a character analysis. You're brilliant at jotting stuff down in your head," finished Harry. He looked at the time. "It's almost midnight."

"Oh, I should leave. You need your rest for tomorrow, Captain," said Hermione, sliding out of his bed and ruffling his hair as she did so. He didn't want her to leave just yet, but at the same time his body functions were slowing down considerably, throwing out large hints that he needed to sleep.

Harry bolted. "Wait, what? How did you know about Quidditch tryouts? How did you know I was made captain?"

"Because you just told me."

It was Harry's turn to gawk.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh please, Harry. I'm Hermione Granger. I know _everything_."

.

"So?" Pansy demanded as soon as Draco entered. "How did it go?"

Draco scoffed, taking a seat on the couch.

"That bad?" said Blaise.

"Granger wasn't part of the deal," said Draco coolly.

Pansy fought a smirk. "Did you at least play nice like you promised you would?"

"...Unfortunately."

"Don't be a baby. We all will be officially starting tomorrow," said Pansy.

"Yipee," the boys chorused in a monotone.

.

"Nothing happened?" asked Ron in disbelief.

"What were you expecting to happen, Ron?" said Harry.

Ron didn't meet his eyes. "Nothing."

Harry knew that was a lie.

The two were walking down the corridor, on their way to the Great Hall for breakfast the following morning. Harry wondered where Hermione was? She, if not always, walked with them to breakfast, lunch, and dinner most of the time. It was strange, not seeing her face before the day began. A peculiar feeling indeed.

Luckily, however, he didn't have to go as far as worried. The bookworm had beat them to it, already sitting at her usual spot at the Gryffindor table; she was one of the first being there, already taking a sip of pumpkin juice as she read today's edition of The Daily Prophet.

Relieved, Harry went to go sit next to her. Hermione looked up just as he sat, the two sharing warm smiles. She looked well-rested, no sign of bags underneath her eyes, her cheeks flushed and healthy.

The two were so caught up in each other's attention that they didn't notice Ron sit down, nor the glowering in their direction.

"Nothing, eh?" said Ron.

Harry snapped out of it, turning in his seat to face the ginger. "Sorry?"

"I rest my case."

"What is he going on about now?" said Hermione.

"Ron is under the impression that you and I did something last night," said Harry.

"Well..." said Hermione innocently. "We _were_ alone for hours. A lot can happen between two people in that amount of time..."

Ron's eyes continued to widen as she spoke, much to Harry's dark amusement.

He wanted to make it worse.

"And you _were_ in my bed..." said Harry, winking at her. "I wasn't complaining."

Ron started coughing violently, causing his two best friends to burst out laughing.

"Ha, ha," Ron gave them a dirty look.

.

"Frowning causes wrinkles, boys," Pansy reminded them. A poor little First Year accidentally bumped into her on his way to class; she whirled around and barked, "WATCH WHERE I'M GOING!"

"Pansy..." Draco mocked. "Remember when we talked about being _nice_ to others?"

"Oh shut up."

Blaise snickered.

"Funny?" Pansy pursed her lips, then spotted someone familiar; a fiery mane of hair. "Why don't you go and say hi to the Weaslette then, Blaise? I bet she'll _love_ it."

Blaise growled something unintelligent just as said girl was heading in their direction.

Ginny was just about to pass the silver trio when Blaise, inwardly cringing, grabbed a hold of her elbow and pulled her back.

Ginny took one sharp look at the limb that she was now willing to burn, then back up to glare at the tall, dark male.

"Weasley," he sneered.

"Zabini," she replied just as coldly, ripping her arm out of his grip.

"Where's your friend?"

"What friend? I have tons. What's it to you? If you're thinking about doing something horrible then I'll hex you into next week."

"What's got your knickers in a bunch? All I wanted to know was whether or not you've seen those two..._people_ you hang around."

"If you're talking about Neville and Luna, no, I haven't seen them. And even if I did, it wouldn't be any of your business," Ginny huffed. "Now get out of my way. I'm late for class."

Blaise bit down hard on his lip as she shoved passed him, closing his eyes and counting backwards from ten to calm himself down.

"Damn," said Pansy.

"Sucks to be you," said Draco.

"Well, I'm gonna go find a nerd," said Pansy. "See you later."

The boys mumbled their goodbyes as the female of the group left. Draco separated himself from Blaise a bit after that because he had "unfinished business" and Blaise didn't even have to question him.

Where was the bloody loon?

Draco impatiently tapped the column he casually leaned against. How hard was it to find one of Potter's follow-?

"Hello, Draco," a dreamy voice caressed his eardrums. "You look dreadful."

_...Well speak of the blonde devil._

Draco slowly turned his head, jaw clenched as he met the wide, silvery gaze of Luna Lovegood. She was a lot shorter than him, more than he realized, and she had her wand tucked in her hair to keep it up.

"Sorry I didn't exceed your expectations," his response was automatic, and he winced at how icy it sounded.

Luna seemed unfazed. "It's alright. I don't expect any less. I can see why you're stressed. Wrackspurts are everywhere."

And then, to weird him out even further, she began swatting the air as if there were bugs in the air. Draco was seething.

"Good holiday?" he forced out through gritted teeth.

Again, Luna didn't react to his rude tone. "It was nice."

He wanted to bang his head against the wall until his ears bled. And he already started to follow through with his actions, turning on his heels and bumping his head against the column.

"Hitting your head won't get rid of the wrackspurts, Draco."

And then she was invading his personal space, taking his face in her small hands, coaxing him to look down at her as she leaned up on her tiptoes. Draco's entire body tensed. Why did he agree to this? Why did it have to be with _her_?

"You must have a clear head and a balanced mind," Luna continued casually, lowering her hands and her heels as she stood to her full height. "That's what Daddy has told me. I find it rather difficult because, well, my head is normally off in the clouds, you see. I understand why people think I'm ditzy. I am, so I don't get bothered by it."

_"Why?"_ Draco blurted out.

"Pardon?"

"_Why_ are you so okay with everything? _Why_ do you let us taunt and tease you? _Why don't you ever get worked up?!"_

Luna blinked for the first time during the entire conversation. "Do you want me to get worked up?"

"Yes!" Draco threw his arms out. "It wouldn't make you less human!"

The dirty blonde smiled gently, which added fuel to his fire.

"You know, Draco, the reason why I don't express my anger like my friends do is simple-you and your friends and your Slytherin peers were raised upon stereotypes. You were taught to hate and judge anyone different than you. And that's why we're at war. Because You-Know-Who fears Harry because he couldn't kill him the first time and he knows Harry is the only wizard alive who is able to defeat him."

"Of course." Draco's lips pulled over his teeth. "Because _Potter's_ so _perfect_."

"This brings me to my next point. I know the story behind you and Harry's first meeting. You were quick to befriend him, but he turned you down and chose Ronald instead. Ever since then, you've been jealous, and that's why you've been such a bully to Harry and anyone who's friends with him. You take your anger and other nasty feelings out on the rest of us because you didn't get what you wanted. And because you're a Malfoy, a man with a strong bloodline, you're the Slytherin Prince. All of the Slytherins look up to you. They follow you, Draco. You're a great leader...but you just make poor choices."

Draco was rendered speechless.

"I must get to class," said Luna. "I hope you can shake off the wrackspurts, Draco. They can be hard to rid of."

And that's where she left him, dumbfounded in the courtyard, right as it just started to rain.


	4. Thoughts and Concerns

**ALL OF THESE FAVES, FOLLOWS, AND REVEIWS ARE NO T GOOD FOR MY HEALTH.**

**Thank you all so, SO much!**

* * *

"So...he didn't try to hurt you or anything?" said Harry.

"Not even a little?" prodded Ron.

"No," said Luna simply. "Why would he?"

Harry wasn't the only one who saw Luna Lovegood talking to Draco Malfoy as if it wasn't out of the ordinary. But then again, that's what Luna was. Those characteristics made her special.

Everyone who was in Harry's, well, "group"-this includes Harry himself, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville-saw all what they needed, even if they were just glimpses. Harry knew Luna could take care of herself; they all could. But he had a strange protectiveness over the petite blonde; she had been, in fact, his only friend for a period of time the previous Year, when he isolated himself from everyone. Luna just gets him, in a way that no one else does.

At her nonchalant statement, the Golden Trio exchanged glances, Ginny's eyes narrowed, and Neville appeared genuinely worried.

"Er, no offense, Luna," said Ron finally, "but what the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

"Draco asked me something along those lines too," Luna replied, tucking a golden strand of hair behind her ear. "He seemed upset about something."

"You don't say."

"What _Ronald's_ trying to say is," said Hermione, giving Ron a dark look before facing the other girl, "we're just wondering why you would talk to him. Please don't take any offense to this, I know you mean well, Luna. It's just that...-"

"All day the Slytherins have been acting weird around us," Ginny finished, and Neville nodded.

"Weird how?" said Harry.

"Malfoy and Luna are suddenly talking, Parkinson yelled at Daphne Greengrass for talking bad about Neville, and Zabini had the nerve to ask me about the weather," Ginny ticked off her fingers as she ranted, fixing up her face as Blaise's name fell from her lips, as if she tasted a sour lemon.

"Wait, wait, slow down," said Ron. _"Zabini?"_

"Zabini," Ginny grumbled, nodding her head.

"_Parkinson_ defended you?" said Hermione, and Neville nodded as if he still couldn't believe it either.

"She did," Neville said to her. "I guess she was close enough to hear what they were saying. I would've kept walking. I'm used to it, but...she just surprised me, is all. And before she left, she...she smiled at me."

"Smiled?"

"Yeah, like an actual little smile. I got an odd feeling in my stomach and I walked away from her. Was that rude?"

Hermione smiled at her friend, giving his hand a reassuring pat. "I don't think so. It's understandable that you got nervous."

Harry watched each conversation unfold, taking each into consideration. Ginny was uncomfortable, Hermione was uncomfortable, and Luna was debatable. He already had defensive feelings over each of them as it is, but with all of them together had his mind reeling.

"Harry?" said Hermione. His gaze gradually drifted up from the table to meet hers. "Are you alright?"

"That's your thinking face," said Ron, pointing at him with a spreading grin plastering across his freckly face. "I like where this is going, mate. What are you thinking?"

"No," said Hermione before Harry could speak, the latter now fighting a smile of his own. _"No_. Absolutely not."

"But you didn't even know what I was going to say, Hermione," said Harry.

"I don't have to," said Hermione, giving him a look, and he couldn't help but chuckle. Of course she did. Harry may say one thing, but she knew what he was thinking. "Ginny. Luna, and I can take care of ourselves."

"That's right!" Ginny piped up, nose pointed up in the air.

"I think it's nice that Harry is concerned, but she is right," said Luna, staring into space, wondering now about whether or not Draco had gotten rid of the wrackspurts.

"You lot are no fun," Ron huffed, crossing his arms.

"H-Hey, I don't want any trouble..." Neville held up his hands innocently.

_"Harry,"_ Hermione enunciated.

_"Hermione,"_ mocked Harry, loving the way her nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed, cheeks flushed and lips pressed in a thin line. He wasn't worried, because he knows that she can't stay mad at him forever.

Before Hermione could open her mouth for a retort, a soft, timid voice had the group silent.

"Er, hi...I couldn't help but overhear..."

Tensing up a bit, Harry turned in his seat to look up into the beautiful face that belonged to Cho Chang. He hadn't talked to her at all since their disaster date the previous Year, and their relationship became so awkward that they didn't talk anymore. Cho was also one of many who thought that he and Hermione were an item.

And she's changed a lot since he had last seen her...which might have been that day? The Seventh Year student sported a layered haircut with brown highlights, and her eyes were actually tearless. Her hesitation was easy to note first as she approached their table, twiddling her fingers.

Harry didn't have to turn to tell that Hermione looked as tense as he felt. But what surprised him was the unexpected action of Hermione subtly brushing his hand with her own. He relaxed at her touch, but it didn't stop the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Don't you think you should mind your own-?" Ron began before Hermione kicked him in the shin, and hard. He yelped, grasping at the injured skin, and hung his head in silent agony.

"Er, Cho. Hi." Harry mentally kicked himself. "How are you?"

Cho appreciatively smiled in his direction. "Better. Did you all have a good holiday?"

Harry nodded for the group since no one bothered to say anything.

"Can we help you with something?" said Hermione warily.

"Cho tends to overhear a lot of things," Luna explained lightly, smiling in her friend's direction. "You mustn't blame her for just being curious or even wanting to be involved. I would, if I were her, and I heard people talking about interesting things."

A sudden look came over Hermione that Harry was the first to notice, their eyes meeting in the briefest of moments before she met Ron's gaze as well. Luna's statement reminded Harry of...well, Hermione. She had no friends and only wanted to fit in.

And now it seemed like Cho had the same life now. She was friendless, since her so-called 'friends' ditched her because she never really did 'get over' Cedric's death and was emotional about everything. The only person who ever genuinely talked to her was Luna Lovegood herself.

"Cho, a word?" said Hermione suddenly, getting to her feet.

"Sure," Cho stammered, and Harry watched the two girls leave the library with a worried look on his face.

"I bet you ten Galleons that they're not going to have just 'a word'," said Ron, holding up air-quotations with his fingers.

"Since when do you have 'ten Galleons'?" Ginny retorted, holding up her own fingers, and the gang laughed.

.

Harry was anxious. Hermione, now gone for almost a full hour, hadn't returned yet. Under the table, he drummed his fingers on his knees in a miscellaneous pattern. What was keeping her? He hoped everything was alright...

"Don't worry. They'll be here in a minute," said Ron, engulfing a huge spoonful of red jello.

Harry's eyes narrowed blankly. "If Hermione were here, she would smack you with one of her books."

"Good thing you're not Hermione, eh mate?" Ron joked.

Harry slowly revealed the book that she had let him borrow, maintaining a poker face while Ron's eyes widened. "Want to bet?"

Just then, Hermione and Cho finally appeared at the Great Hall entrance, saving Ron from a potential beating. To the boys' shock, Hermione gave Cho's arm a gentle squeeze, and the two shared a conservative smile before parting ways.

"I don't understand you women," said Ron as Hermione sat down across from them. "One minute you bloody hate each other, and the next you're all...girly and..."

"First of all, I never hated her. And second of all, what Cho and I do is not up to you," Hermione corrected him.

"Hermione?" Harry leaned closer. "Have you been..._crying?"_

"What?" Hermione grabbed the nearest spoon to look at her reflection. Her skin was blotchy around her cheeks, eyes red-rimmed. "O-oh! That's nothing. Nothing at all..."

Harry didn't buy it. "Hermione..."

"Er, Harry?" Ron pointed. "Should we be concerned?"

Both Harry and Hermione whipped their heads around just in time to see Luna approach the Slytherin table.

.

"Hello, Draco."

Draco, his back to her, looked to Pansy and Blaise helplessly. All they did was snigger in their plates.

"Were you able to get rid of the wrackspurts?"

Draco gritted his teeth. "Mhm."

"That's nice."

"Mhm."

"Draco!" Pansy slapped his arm, then turned around to look at the blonde. "Won't you sit down?"

"Certainly," Luna replied, and Draco was forced to make room for her next to him. He got uncomfortable rather quickly. He didn't like the closer proximities her new seat provided, and he _really_ didn't like the way she was looking at him...

.

"This can't be good..." murmured Harry.

"What do we do?" muttered Ron.

"...Nothing," said Hermione, receiving judging looks for that one. "We do nothing."

"Nothing?" said Harry.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

_At least not yet._


End file.
